Good Dance
by SirenSamantha
Summary: It's opening night at the new club near campus, Dean was hoping he'd get lucky before the night ended, and he was right. Destiel college AU. Frottage/hand jobs on the dance floor. PWP.
1. Chapter 1

Good Dance

It's pushing quarter till midnight on Friday night, the entry fee paid, and finally Dean steps into the club with his friend Ash right behind him. It's opening night for the club that's not five blocks away from campus so obviously the place is packed; flashing lights, loud, good music engulfs Dean the moment he steps inside. Dean likes it, this kind of club is perfect when you're looking to get wasted, dance, and pick up strangers wanting nothing more than a quick fuck.

Dean and Ash swing by the bar for a drink before scoping the place out; granted, it's still early, but with going to a new club it's good to get a feel of the place. The two are having a good time, they know a few people there already and chat, they drink more, dance when the song entices them to the floor, but the whole time Dean's restless eyes scan the crowds waiting for that one person to catch his eye. No one has by one in the morning.

Ash is out on the dance floor by one thirty, a dark haired girl dancing with him—her plush ass against his groin. Her painted dark lips are in a foxy smile, eyes done up smoky, her body is tight and fit, beautiful of course, but no different than any other girl in the place. Dean smirks to himself thinking _go Ash_ because the dude is definitely getting laid tonight.

Lifting his glass to his lips, Dean sighs realizing it's empty. "Can I buy you a drink?" a deep voice is suddenly in his right ear, breath ghosting against his neck. Dean jumps and turns towards the man. Who he is faced with leaves him breathless. The guy looks to be his age and height as he stands close to Dean; in dark wash jeans, and a simple navy blue tee-shirt hugging his body under a dark blazer, the guy is dressed simple yet nice to look at. _Very_ nice to look at, and when Dean sees his face better with the flash of a strobe light, his throat clenches. Light stubble covers the man's jaw, his lips are obscenely pink, plump, and chapped looking, eyes are an unreal sort of blue staring right at Dean, and his hair is dark and tussled, looking as if people have been carding their fingers through it. This is who Dean has been waiting for all night.

"Yeah." Dean replies, "If I can get a dance from you afterword."

The man smirks, eyeing Dean up just as he had done. "Deal." Another shiver slides down Dean's back. He wants that voice crying his name.

The two approach the bar, the man orders them a couple shots each-the barista's specialty, purple nurples, are half off tonight-and Dean is very aware of the body next to him. The dark purple shots have a sweet tang to them as he swallows. He watches the blue-eyed man throw down his second shot, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows before Dean downs his second shot too. When he sets the short glass back down, the man is watching him closely; Dean licks his lips-a slight tang residing on his bottom lip-and the man copies him, be it on purpose or not, but Dean watches his pink tongue drag across his lip.

Dean tips his head towards the full middle of the club where countless bodies are moving to the music. Blue Eyes sends him a playful smirk then heads into the crowd. Dean follows, watching him walk and maneuver through the writhing bodies. When they reach a spot with just enough room for the both of them, Dean pulls on the guy's hip so he spins around to face him and they're up against one another instantly, moving in time to the beat and each other. The dark haired man places a hand flat on the low of Dean's back-the added heat like electricity running through him-so Dean slides a hand under the blazer and onto his hip. They move together, eyes never leaving the others.

Leaning in close to place his lips by the man's ear, Dean asks, "What's your name?"

Blue Eyes mimics his position and he can feel those lips against the shell of his ear. "Call me Cas." Dean runs the name over in his head and almost doesn't catch the next part. "What's yours?"

"Dean." He hears something that sounds like a hum or growl before the whisper of his name and his pants are now tighter than when he got here.

With a quick movement Dean spins Cas around and pulls him up against his body-the man's back splayed across his chest and ass pushed back into Dean's groin. Dean lets his hands slide around to Cas' stomach and then drift to his hips as the guy wriggles in front of him.

They dance for what feels like a very long time, the songs all merge together sounding the same, people around them constantly moving, lights making everything feels like it's alive, but Dean keeps his hands on Cas. Cas sometimes drags his hands over Dean's arms that are wrapped around him, he intertwines their fingers, or reaches back to slide those deliciously strong hands down Dean's sides and down to grip his ass. Ready to push things forward, Dean drops a hand and lets it drag up one of Cas' thighs, moving to the inside and creeping up to cup his crotch, palming his hard dick and pulls Cas' earlobe in between his lips. The body in front of him jerks up into the touch before pushing back against Dean's hips harder where his cock is obviously hard, and pushes down on Dean's hand over his cock.

"Shit." Dean breathes, he tips his head to kiss Cas' neck. Cas keeps his hand over Dean's on his cock, pushing hard as he rubs himself against it, head tilting to give Dean more skin to kiss and nip. The grip Cas has on his hand tightens and Dean hears him moan. He opens his eyes to see the dark haired man's eyes shut, and lips parted as he grinds between Dean's hand and ass. Dean's close himself, the friction of being this hard in jeans and grinding against the perfect ass driving him wild. Nevertheless he knows what Cas needs so he quickens his hand as he pumps him through the tight, dark jeans.

"Fuck, Cas, so hot." He licks a stripe up Cas' neck to behind his ear.

Cas moans a bit louder now, reaches back to grab a fistful of Dean's short hair and kisses him roughly on the lips. "Don't you dare stop." The deep voice has gotten deeper, rougher, and it drips sex now. Dean doesn't stop. Between his hand on his cock and ass rutting against him Cas must be on the brink—and it's that thought what pushes Dean on. In just mere minutes, Cas' body shakes, he spins around in Dean's arms, presses his whole body against his, kisses him hard and rolls his hips against Dean once before coming in his pants. Those full lips fall slack from Dean's his breath comes out in gasps and Dean keeps his eyes on Cas' faces as he works him through it.

The blue eyed, dark haired man is still against him, front of his jeans damp and Dean's arm stays around his back to keep him upright. Dean kisses Cas' lips multiple times until Cas kisses him back, smiling against his lips.

Blue eyes look back into Dean's. "Good dance." The low voice grumbles, lips moving over Dean's own.

Dean pulls at his upper lip and rolls his body against Cas', his dick still hard and needy. "Good dance."

Cas' eyes widen suddenly and travel down Dean's sides to meet in the middle of his hips. Dean's lips part when fingers fiddle with his button and zipper.

"What are you doing?" he gasps when his cock is greeted with the air and fingers circle it.

"Sh, Dean." Cas hisses and kisses him again as he starts pumping his cock firmly. With just a few strong strokes Dean is coming, his warm sticky fluid covering his jeans and Cas' fingers. Cas stays directly in front of him, concealing their actions and after a minute, he tucks Dean back into his jeans.

Dean's mind is still getting over the fact that he just had a mind blowing orgasm, with a stranger, on the dance floor when Cas leans in to kiss him again, his body still moving to the beat and against Dean.

Once his mind settles and it once again feels like he is in a club, Dean takes a small step back from Cas. "You want another drink? 'Cause I'm going for another."

Dean watches the expression on Cas' face change through stages he can't read. Those warm hands fall from his hips. "No I, I have to go." He's not looking at Dean in the eyes now.

Dean does his best not to look disappointed even though he is. He was hoping for a full night with Cas in his bed before letting the guy go. "Oh, kay, that's cool then."

Cas breathes in slowly, blue eyes look at him again and Cas kisses him quickly yet deeply. "Maybe I'll see you around, Dean."

Dean is sure he looks confused because he's confused as fuck. More distance appears between them and Dean watches helplessly. "Yeah, Cas." His voice doesn't make it over the loud music.

Dean goes to the bar where he stays for another half hour before informing Ash he's leaving.

The remaining time of the weekend Dean spends imagining blue eyes, dark hair, and sweet lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Monday morning has Dean driving to campus in his '67 Impala for his 10am, sociology 305 class. The class is held in a large lecture hall in one of the older buildings on campus and can seat up to 400 people. Dean gets there early with a black coffee and he sits in his usual spot: back left sections of seats, towards the end of the isle.

Just minutes before class is scheduled to start, Dean sees him. His blue eyed stranger, Cas. Dean instantly perks up in his seat and watches him walk down a few more stairs and take a seat. He sits opposite of Dean, on the right side of the room and more towards the front than Dean. In the brighter light of the lecture hall Dean gets a better look at the man.

The professor is greeting the class but Dean's eyes and mind are all on the man across the room. Cas is wearing a grey long sleeved shirt and it looks good on him- tight around his strong arms and lean torso. Through out the hour and fifteen minute class Dean focuses on Cas instead of the professor, because just watching how Cas sits, flexes and stretches his shoulders every few minutes, tilts his head and scribbles in his notebook, it all looks way hotter than it should. Dean never noticed how long it takes and hour and fifteen minutes to snake by, but today he notices when all he can wait for is to talk to Cas after words. Not that he knows what he will say, but he's got to say something.

Finally, the professor dismisses the class and the sound of shuffling papers and padding of shoes fill the lecture hall. Dean pulls his bag up onto his lap as he puts his unopened notebook and pen in it all the while watching Cas down across the room; he's glad Cas packs up slowly and waits for the first crowd of students to leave.

When Cas stands, Dean waits until he walks up a few stairs before he stands as well and that draws those blue eyes up to him. The man does a double take and when he pauses on the stair, Dean smiles at him. He throws one strap of his backpack over his shoulder, grabs his empty coffee cup, and heads up the stairs to meet Cas on the landing at the top.

Dean smiles at him as he drops his cup into the trashcan. "Hey, Cas." He turns to face the man. Cas is wearing light jeans that have a hole below the left knee and damn does this look suit him.

"I didn't know you had this class." That deep voice hits Dean and he holds down a noise in his throat.

"I could say the same thing. I didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon." He watches Cas closely.

"Yeah." He pauses. "I can't say it's such a bad thing though." A smile breaks across Dean's face and Cas smirks at him.

They exit the building and Dean shoves his hands into his pockets at the cool October breeze.

"When's your next class?" The blue-eyed man asks. They stand to the side of the entry and Dean looks at him.

"Twelve. How about you?" He's hoping it doesn't end now, here, hopes Cas is on the same wave length he is.

"Fifteen minutes."

"Oh." Dean's shoulder slump a bit. Cas nods slowly, shifting his weighs from one leg to the other. They're standing close together. Dean looks into those crazy blue eyes after a silent minute, "Do you want to," he tilts his head away from the building, "go?"

The pupils of Cas' eyes widen and lips quirk up. "Yeah." The word rolls off his tongue smoothly.

Dean licks his lips. Jackpot. They start walking when Dean asks, "My place?"

"Sounds good. Where do you live?"

Dean tells him where his apartment complex is and Cas says he knows it; they break off to go to their cars. Dean lives a few miles away from campus, so it takes him his usual thirteen minutes to get there; after he pulls into a parking spot he sees another car pull in that he assumes is Cas. Grabbing his bag, Dean steps out of his Impala, locks her, and then waits for the blue-eyed man.

Those eyes are even more brilliant in the sunlight and they stare at Dean as he crosses the lot. Cas walks right up to Dean and presses their lips together. Dean smiles at the forwardness, but then kisses him right back, hungry for those lips he's only known for three days.

Dean kisses Cas once more softly before saying, "Come on." He leads Cas inside where they go up to the fourth floor and Dean unlocks his door. He picked up his place over the weekend, thank god. The door clicks shut when Cas shuts after following Dean in and goes to set his bag and keys down on the table.  
"Nice place."

Dean turns to see Cas still by the door, eyes looking around the open room—the apartment is small and simple, but the large windows along one wall light the place up beautifully. He walks over to Cas smiling easily and lifts his hand to card his fingers through the dark hair, "Thanks, but you haven't even seen the whole place." Cas laughs lightly. Dean wonders why he's so comfortable with this guy. Nevertheless, he wraps his arms around Cas' waist and begins to walk backwards leading him around the large open room. "Kitchen," he has his eyes on Cas who is keeping those full lips in a smirk, they move five feet diagonally to the right, "living room," they move again, "bathroom," Dean kicks open the already cracked door but the blue eyes are on him now. "and, bedroom."

Cas nods, his voice is low, "I like this room best." Arms encircle Dean's waist pulling their bodies together. The two pairs of lips meet, fitting perfect together, and Dean works them apart with his own.

Cas' body is warm under his clothes as Dean lets himself touch, his hands caress the curves of Cas' back, his tight, sharp hips, and round ass. The blue eyed man moans softly when Dean slides his hands up under his shirt. Dean likes that noise, without the overwhelming boom of music it is much more intense and personal. Cas pulls Dean in closer, those wide hands now squeezing Dean's ass.

Dean kisses the corner of his mouth, "What do you want?"

"I want you out of these clothes." Cas nips at Dean's top lips before inching back from his body and stripping him of his shirt, and then those hands are fiddling with his jeans. When his pants are slacked, Cas' hands go to his hips but he leans forward and Dean thinks he almost sighs when his neck is met with hot lips. Hands move upwards and seem to map out his bare skin because they are everywhere.

"Cas." He half moans. Lips are over his nipple, cool tongue flicking back and forth over it; Dean intertwines his hand in the soft brown hair. "Shit, _Cas_." He huffs out a laugh, "Take your shirt off." Hands leave his body, but Cas kisses up the middle of his neck as the grey shirt is inched up higher and higher and Dean watches with hungry eyes. Cas' skin is surprisingly tan but it's a shade that looks natural, his muscles aren't bulky but his arms are strong, stomach tight and lean. Dean's eyes focus down on the bulge in Cas' pants. Cas' hands go there next, when he pushes down his jeans, Dean catches a glimpse of black on his back.

"What's on your back?" He asks, although he walks behind the man before he can answer.

Across Cas' back is a pair of tattooed wings. The go from between his shoulder blades to about four inches past his shoulders; the wings are full, going down maybe six inches below the point of his armpit and filling his back. They're breathtaking. Cas kicks off his jeans causing his back to flex and Dean reaches out to trace the feathers delicately.

"This is awesome, Cas."

The man laughs quietly, "Thanks." His body shivers when Dean traces over the top of his left wing.

"Why wings?" He kisses this inked skin and hears the man swallow before replying.  
"My um, full name, is Castiel. It's the name of an angel, so I figured wings were fitting."

Dean smiles, "Castiel." He breathes at the base of his hairline; he likes the name, and he likes the way Cas' body reacts to him.

Dean wraps his arms around the warm body, they're both clad in boxers. Cas' back fits well against his chest and Dean kisses his neck and the curve of his shoulder.

Castiel's head is tipped, neck stretched where Dean kisses, and his eyes are closed with a smile playing at his lips. "Can I say, you're taking this a lot slower than I expected." The low voice rumbles back into Dean's chest.

"Yeah well, it's barely noon, we've got all day." He rolls his hips lazily against Cas.

Cas pushes back, "Can I make a suggestion?" Dean hums in agreement against his skin, "We speed things up, a little, and you get on with fucking me because I really need you in me, now."

Every word goes straight to Dean's cock. He spins Cas around in his arms and kisses him full on the lips. "We can do that."

Cas moans when Dean pushes him back onto the bed. Crawling up over him, Dean scatters kisses across his body, runs his hands up his sides and through his hair causing it to stand up every which way. Despite what Cas said, Dean takes time to learn Cas' body; he follows every line of his body, finds what places make him squirm with needy anticipation, where he can touch or kiss that makes Cas gasp because he is ticklish. Cas' own hands move across Dean's back, trace up and down his spine, cupping his ass or running his fingers through Dean's short cut hair.

When Dean wraps his lips around the head of Castiel's cock, Cas curses and arches off the bed, pushing deeper into Dean. "Oh fuck, Dean, just like that." Dean hums in the praise and bobs up and down over him. His tongue swirls and cheeks hollow making the man above him whine.

He stays down on him for a few minutes before pulling off with a slick pop. Dean kisses Cas' neck again, "Turn over for me, Cas." The man shudders but then turns over; Dean takes this moment to reach to his bedside table and pulls lube and a condom form it's drawer.

When he looks back, Cas is propped up on his knees and elbows, ass in the air, giving Dean the hottest view. Blue Eyes looks back at Dean with a roguish smirk. "Are you going to do something, or just stare, Dean?"

He huffs out a laugh and moves behind Cas, running his palms up the back of Cas' thighs and over his ass—gives it a teasing squeeze. "I'm getting there. You're quite the eyeful though. _Very_, distracting." He leans down to plant a kiss to the man's ass; Cas sets his forehead down on the bed. "I'll take care of ya." He whispers before running his tongue across Cas' entrance. Dean flicks his tongue back and forth, presses the tip into his hole and past the tight ring of muscle. Tremors rake through Cas' body when Dean doesn't cease. Dean likes the way Cas is slowly coming undone by his doing.

When Dean pulls back, Cas lets out a breath, muscles in his back flexing.

With lube slickened fingers, Dean slowly presses one into Cas—pausing to let his body adjust—then works Cas open, and by the time his three fingers can slide in and out him, Cas is mewling, rocking back against his fingers. Dean has to make himself concentrate so he doesn't come just from this.

The ripping of the condom's foil is uncomfortably loud after Dean's fingers leave Cas. He spreads more lube over his dick.

Dean runs a hand up Castiel's back, "You good?"

"Yeah." His voice sounds like he's smiling. "Can I make another suggestion?"

Laughing, Dean replies, "You're awfully bossy." He plants a kiss at the base of Castiel's spine.

"I want to see you."

He swallows, there is no way he can say no to that. "Okay." He manages to choke out.

Dean's hands glide over Cas' skin as he turns over on the bed, and when their eyes meet, the blue is dark and only an outline around the huge pupils. Cas spreads his legs around Dean and has them bent at the knees; he gives his cock a couple strokes.

Dean leans down to kiss him and Cas relaxes under him, his lips are pliant against Dean's as he kisses back fully and his thumb draws circles on the back of Dean's neck.

"Dean, please."

With one last kiss Dean pulls back and lines himself up to Cas. He breaches him slowly, pushing in until he is completely engulfed in the tight heat. Cas' lips fall slack as he makes a content noise; Dean watches him closely.

Heat builds quickly between their bodies; Dean pumps in and out of Cas and the man keeps his hands on Dean somewhere or other to keep them close. They share sloppy kisses and soft caresses as the hands on the clock move somewhere far off to the side. All Dean can focus on—and all he cares to focus on—is Castiel and they way their bodies fit together.

Dean catches his name falling from Cas' lips. "Lie back." Cas hands on his hips slow Dean and his is maneuvered on the bed; his head rests at the very end of the bed.

Castiel lies on top of him and kisses up Dean's neck, "Cas." He breathes out, completely lost in this man. Their lips are pressed together, but Cas reaches back and guides Dean's cock back in him. "Fuck, Cas." His voice is more urgent as Cas begins moving up and down on him, his muscled legs guiding him.

Blue eyes squeeze shut and Cas' body has trouble keeping upright. "Dean. Dean, I'm close."

Without a word Dean wraps his hand around Cas' cock and pumps him fast causing Cas to moan and whine, his hand gripping Dean's shoulder. "Come on, Castiel. Come for me."

Dean's name drips from Castiel's lips, and come splatters over Dean's hands and down onto his stomach. Cas' breaths come in gasps, but he lifts himself from Dean, removes the soiled condom, and jerks Dean's cock so that he is erupting within moments. Dean tries to hold Cas' gaze, but his eyes fall shut. Still, he knows those eyes remain on him.

The cool press of tongue on his stomach and through a puddle of come makes Dean laugh and open his eyes.

"Dirty." He grabs Cas' hair, "Come here." He hauls Cas back up and kisses him deeply. Their eyes meet, "You wanna hang around?"

A small smile sneaks onto the now rather kiss swollen lips, "Yeah." They share another slow kiss.

The two of them clean up, eat a quick, easy lunch, and then Dean lures Cas back to bed. Dean has given Cas a pair of his boxers to wear. They sit at the top of the bed, propped up on pillows and atop the blankets. The afternoon sunlight floods the room. Dean has an arm behind Cas' shoulders and the mop of dark brown hair rests in the crook of his shoulder; Cas is tracing random patterns on Dean's stomach and they talk easily back and forth. They talk about school—both of them are graduating in spring—and majors, they discuss their work, talk about their families for a bit and then tell stories of their lives. Dean finds himself smiling a lot more than he's used to with someone he's just met, he likes Cas, and will listen to anything he wants to talk about. And it's not just because of that sexy voice either.

"Hey." Cas says once the conversation had slowed for a bit.

"Hm?" Dean drags his hand across Cas' chest.

"Would you want to go out with me?"

Dean smiles and turns his head to look at him, "Like a date?"

"Yeah. Do you want to?"

"Are you going to take me clubbing?"

Cas laughs and elbows him. "No. I was thinking of something else."

"Like?"

"I'm not telling you until you say yes."

Dean smiles, his finger traces the strong line of Cas' jaw. "Okay. I'll go out with you, Castiel."

"That's what I like to hear." The man says, a smile now on his face as he lifts himself to straddle Dean's lap and brings their lips together.

fin


End file.
